“Operating Room” by Kimberly Casey
Lay your spine down on the marble slab And count backwards from 1988 Ticking off years for every generation before Your family called you into existence. Place your palms face down and draw up The cool beneath you, into agape pores Hesitation before the final inhale Eyes unlock and roll within. … Doctor deems body a minefield Uncovering metal & mortar Woman withdrawn burden Extract weapons on site Doctor say woman will grow Into a wanting split shell Woman say doctor don’t Know this breaking thing well … Here you are stripped bare, treated and trying It all doesn’t have to make sense to you, No one in this room has ever owed you anything. Wrap up in paper. Try to sleep.
Kimberly Casey is a Massachusetts native who received her Bachelors of Fine Arts in Writing, Literature and Publishing from Emerson College in Boston, MA. She has since moved to Huntsville, Alabama where she founded Out Loud HSV – a spoken word and literary arts collective dedicated to creating a welcoming platform for language, writing, and communication to flourish. Her work has appeared in Red Fez, Hypertrophic Literary and The Corvus Review, among others.